


At the Bottom of Things

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 5 + 1, Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Disability, Disabled Character, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, Kinky, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Promiscuity, Romance, Rough Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Wheelchair Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-10
Updated: 2010-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic





	At the Bottom of Things

_Aka: Five Times Christopher Pike Fulfilled a Need and the One Time He Had a Need Fulfilled_

1.

It'd be hero worship, but he's not a hero yet.

It'd be an affair, but they haven't got time. Chris doesn't know that. George doesn't know that. But the _Kelvin's_ leaving tomorrow, and they haven't got time.

It'd be puppy love, but Chris is old enough to have been hurt once or twice.

So instead it's just this, just fulfilling a need. George needs to feel, needs to hurt, needs to rough someone up a bit, and Chris is young and eager and willing. His breath catches in his throat as he's bent over a desk, hand on the back of his neck, hot harsh breathing sharp in his ear. It fucking _hurts_ , but George's moans are the sounds of gratitude, and no one has to know. No one has to know why it hurts so much when Chris hears the news from the shuttles, why he can't quite look that newborn baby in the eye. No one has to know what coulda, shoulda, woulda, might have been.

Chris fulfilled a need, and that's all there was.

2.

She's insatiable, and it's not just that she's an Orion, it's not just that she's young and horny. Pike thinks that Gaila is special, really, not necessarily special for him, but at the moment, it's fun to give her what she asks for. He screws a finger up inside her and god _damn_ she's wet, dripping over his hand in a matter of seconds, her red lips parting as she pants and moans without any sense of decorum or restraint. Fortunately, those things aren't what he wants from her, and this _is_

His thumb exerts a steady, increasing pressure on her clit as he fucks her with his fingers, stretching her with more, more -- he's got the fingers of both hands inside her and he can see the lust in her eyes, the gratitude. Pike knows she's not going to break. He doesn't know how many men have; young men are always careful with the female sex. Pike can be careful, but that's not what Gaila wants, and he can feel her blooming around his fingers, opening, hips rocking, cries increasing in volume. When he spins her to face the wall and shoves his dick up inside her, it's almost an afterthought. She stays in that trance for a long time, and he takes care of her, stroking her face, murmuring little useless stories to her about space and his childhood. She thanks him profusely before they go their separate ways, and that beaming grin of hers, usually seen from across campus but always seen nonetheless, never fails to make him smile.

3.

Any psychology textbook, hell anyone who knows the definition of the _word_ psychology could tell you that Jim Kirk has daddy issues. Pike doesn't need a medical degree to tell him that. Still, it's surprising how much he owns up to, once Pike has his trust, once he's curled up in Pike's lap and crying quietly. It's easy to soothe, easy to murmur words of affection as he takes Jim's cock in hand and strokes it slowly, firmly, calling it his "lovely little prick," calling Jim his "baby boy," his asshole the "special place." George Kirk wouldn't have been affectionate like this, but it's only a father _figure_ that Jim needs, and it would be an insult to try to provide more than that. Again, Pike's faced with the lack of knowledge -- the facts that they don't have time, that the _Enterprise_ will be called on a rescue mission in less than a week, obscured from him as he strokes Jim's prick and calls him precious and tells him to take a seat on Daddy's big, hard, cock. And again, it's about something simple. It's about one man's need, and Pike's willingness to fulfill it. In this moment, that is all it needs to be.

4.

There's not much surprising about the _Narada_. Romulan harshness, the torture, insults to the Federation, none of it quite strikes Pike as _surprising_. But there is one surprise, one little thing, when Nero gets him alone.

There are guards, usually, on watch, but Nero dismisses them with a hand, and when they are alone, Nero rubs a dirty finger over his lips, over his cheek. Pike's eyes are hard, and he does not flinch. If the bastard thinks he can break Christopher Pike with a gentle touch...

"They're out there," Nero murmurs quietly, in the voice of a broken man. "My wife. Myself. Ayel. We're all going to _exist_ , in this world, somehow, without knowing the _pain_.... do you know what it's like to wait, Christopher?" he asks, meeting Pike's eyes. He lets his gaze slide to the side. "You think all you can give me is your name, your rank," Nero continues, his voice almost a whisper by now. "But this ship _stinks_. It's a crew from a world gone by, a world that will never _exist_ , and our pain is a burning phantom that you will _never_ know," he growls, suddenly shouting in Pike's ear. "Your humanity... devotion, honor, _compassion_.... there are things under your skin that I have not seen since I said goodbye to the woman I love," he whispers, rubbing a thumb over Pike's cheek. "I think I needed to see that," Nero murmurs, and then he stands. The guards come back, and Pike glances up, thinking the captain has gone. Nero is standing half in shadow, but Pike can still see the stark, tattooed lines of his face, the sweat on his brow from the floodlights.

"My decision has not changed," Nero says ominously, before he leaves.

5.

"I wanted to see you, Admiral."

Pike smiles and turns his chair around to face Hikaru Sulu, rolling closer. "Please. Come in."

"I wanted to say... thank you, sir. For your leadership."

Pike laughs lightly, gesturing to a chair. "I dropped you out of a shuttle and nearly killed you."

"Respectfully, sir, standing on the edge of a drill platform at the wrong time nearly killed me. You saved us all."

Pike inclines his head, and thinks for a moment. "Do you have family, Hikaru? A girlfriend?"

Sulu frowns a little. "I had a... partner, sir. He was on the Farragut."

Pike nods. "I'm sorry."

Sulu shrugs. "A lot of people lost loved ones."

"Yes. Come here, Hikaru."

"Sir?"

"Come here," Pike repeats, gesturing for Sulu to come closer. He does, and when he's close enough, Pike tugs him down by the front of the shirt, drags Sulu's mouth to his own. He doesn't resist, but he doesn't capitulate, either. Pike kisses harder, bites at Sulu's lips. Sulu bites back.

When Sulu pulls away, flushed, breathing heavily, Pike smiles. "As I thought. I want you to do something, Hikaru."

"Sir?"

"I want you to go see Jim Kirk."

"See him, Sir?"

"Just... do it. And have an open mind."

Sulu looks a little confused, but he nods, and he takes his leave of the Admiral. A week later, Pike receives a messily scrawled thank-you note from Jim. He smiles.

+1.

It starts out like all the others. When they approach him, Pike has their needs firmly in mind, wants to ascertain what he can do for them. He likes them both -- Spock was a respected younger colleague, with a brilliant mind and an earnest disposition. The Vulcan sarcasm is not lost on him, and had he been on board the _Enterprise_ at certain moments, he would've enjoyed watching Spock take Jim down a peg or two. He's less familiar with Uhura, but he likes strong women, and he likes her no-nonsense attitude. She may not be Vulcan, but her intelligence is also impressive, and there's an emotional intelligence that he can just discern under the surface as well. So when they come to him, his mind is all on what they need, and the whole affair takes him entirely by surprise.

"Relax your muscles, Admiral," Spock says calmly as he lifts Pike's hips from the chair, as Uhura tugs his pants and his underwear down his legs. It's faintly humiliating, and the only expression he can manage is a hard stare. Spock simply lifts his eyebrow, and gently lowers Pike back into the chair.

"Look, if you think I want to..."

"Shhh," Uhura murmurs, laying a finger over his lips. "No assumptions here."

"We want to give you a pleasurable experience, Admiral," Spock murmurs in Pike's ear. He's behind the chair now, sliding the palms of his hands down Pike's chest, then twisting Pike's nipples between thumbs and forefingers with a vicious pinch.

"Ah!" He withstood tortures on board that Romulan ship that he won't even revisit in his dreams, but a tweak to his nipples has him crying out like a babe. He bites his lip and schools his expression as Uhura looks up at him from between his legs, amused.

"I taught him that."

"Vulcan nipples are not especially sensitive," Spock explains mildly. His tone is scientific; the press of teeth around Pike's earlobe is decidedly not.

"Then where... are you sensitive?" Pike gasps.

"You will find out." Spock's voice, low with promise, is perhaps the sexiest thing Pike's ever heard. His legs spread a little, unconsciously, and Uhura slides a hand up the length of his dick, holding it loosely enough not to be much more than a tease.

  
"Let him touch you, Admiral," Uhura murmurs, pressing her open mouth to the side of his kneecap. "Let us make you feel good."

"I..."

"We've wanted you for so long," she sighs, resting lightly against his calf. Had you asked him before, Pike would've said it was impossible _not_ to look submissive in that position, but submissive is the last thing Nyota Uhura is. "We fantasized about you," she purrs in honeyed tones. Spock's hand slides down his stomach, fingertips brushing coarse grey curls, _just_ shy of the root of his cock. Pike groans under his breath. "We used to whisper to each other at night, while he slid his fingers inside me, talking about what we'd do to you, how we'd seduce you. I used to come so hard, thinking about your tongue on my pussy while he fucked you."

"Cadet, I don't think..."

"Nyota," Spock corrects in his ear, his voice rough and almost oceanic in the way his breath caresses the syllables of his lover's name. "You will call her Nyota."

It's been a long time since Pike responded to a command like that. It's been a long time since he considered the possibilities of such a thing, not since a ship called _Kelvin_ went up in flames and a young Christopher Pike buried his nose in a book, in a dissertation. "Nyota," his mouth whispers without his brain's consent, and she smiles.

"We're going to make it so good, Christopher," she promises, lifting his cock and rubbing the head with his thumb. "You don't have to move a muscle."

"I can't," he says quietly, a reminder of the position he's found himself in, the spinal injury. He can experience sensation, thank God, he can get an erection, he can do all those things, but he cannot stand, he cannot walk, he cannot thrust, he cannot _fuck_. Not yet. He's angry at himself for feeling humiliation, for feeling shame. Those feelings wash over him until Spock tightens a hand in his hair, pulls, and kisses him like nothing he's ever experienced. If you'd asked him before, whether a kiss could consume, he'd have called it a romantic notion. Now, his whole body burns, his nerves tingle, and the stillness of his limbs is not a deficit. He cannot fight, and he doesn't want to. When Nyota joins them, it's just another puzzle piece, another fragment of his stoicism melting away. Spock's supposed to be the unemotional one, but Pike feels like he's been restraining himself all these years, and it's just in this moment that the dam is bursting. He doesn't want to confront the feelings rushing in, but they don't give him a choice. They cradle him and pin him with their bodies and at one moment it's Nyota riding on his dick like a particular kind of angel, her bare breasts brushing his chest, her hand holding the back of his neck in a sort of warning, and at the next it's Spock's palm caressing his face, his neck, learning the curves and angles that make him up and the emotions that lie beneath.

They teach him that sex can be a thousand kinds of things, and that it doesn't have to end when a need is fulfilled. There are new needs, additional needs, need that grows and expands out of a need that once was, and there is no shame in the needing. His need for them never dies, never diminishes, and he learns to accept that, to fold himself into the love that is theirs and to consider himself an essential part of it. For now, there is plenty of time.


End file.
